


The King's Jewels

by misura



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-19
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-02-04 09:57:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12768558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Spending an afternoon watching Thranduil gloat over some treasure was not Bard's idea of a good time.





	The King's Jewels

Spending an afternoon watching Thranduil gloat over some treasure was not Bard's idea of a good time.

On the other hand, spending an afternoon keeping a polite tongue in his mouth and a neutral expression on his face that didn't for a moment suggest that he was bored out of his mind was exactly Bard's idea of the sort of thing he could look forwards to doing more often now that someone (well, a lot of someones) had gotten it into their head that he should be king.

In truth, he'd only taken the job because there seemed no other available candidates he'd trust to do a good job. He knew what needed doing, and so he did it. If people wished to call him 'king' because of it - well, at some point, Bard had realized his time might be more fruitfully spent than wasting it telling people something they ought to already know.

So now here he was, invited by official herald, to bear witness to Thranduil's ... something or another.

Bard imagined the gems were pretty enough, although he'd have preferred to see more of the Halls themselves. A guided tour had not been offered thus far, though, and he'd thought better of asking.

Had he been anywhere else, he might have given in to the temptation to quietly excuse himself and slip away, knowing he would not be missed.

Sadly, wandering around unaccompanied inside an Elven stronghold seemed a sure way to ensure that he would, indeed, not be missed - by the arrows of the guards, that was, who definitely seemed of the 'shoot first, offer some vague apology later (if ever)' sort.

"Do I bore you?" Thranduil asked suddenly, as if he hadn't been spending the past ... hour? two hours? pretending Bard didn't even exist. "Are these not the finest gems you have ever set your eyes upon?"

Two questions, with some very different answers.

Bard decided to play it safe and only answer the second one. "Very pretty, my lord."

Of course, the same might be said of Thranduil. Having seen him fight only added to the attraction - not that Bard would permit himself to think of his feelings for Thranduil in such terms. He _respected_ Thranduil, as one ought to respect a ruler of Elves. He was wary of giving Thranduil offense, and keen on keeping his goodwill for the people of Dale. That was all.

If Bard also looked at Thranduil as someone he might wish to call 'friend', or even 'lover', that was a thought best kept to himself. Thranduil seemed more likely to be offended than flattered by such ambitions, and Bard was not such an idiot that he couldn't put the good of his people before his own - inasfar as confessing his feelings might do him good rather than ill.

" _Pretty_?" Thranduil dropped the stones he'd been admiring and picked up a necklace. "I show you gems made from pure starlight, forged by the great Elven smiths of old, and you dismiss their work with such a simple word?"

"I am a simple man, my lord." Bard bowed. He disliked apologizing for something he felt hardly warranted taking offense, so he hoped Thranduil would accept the gesture for what it appeared to be, rather than for what it was.

"Simple men do not slay dragons," said Thranduil. He seemed genuinely annoyed, which was unfortunate. Winter was still months away, but Bard had hoped to leave with assurances of Thranduil's continued goodwill. "Simple men do not get invited to these halls."

"It was only one dragon, my lord," Bard said. Not that he ever hoped to slay a second - or that slaying the first had not been as hard a thing as he had ever done in his life.

Thranduil chuckled, good or at least neutral mood seemingly restored as quickly as it had fled. "Approach," he said. "Come closer."

Bard tried to think of some other adjectives besides 'pretty' a man might use to describe fine jewelry. 'Expensive' would be true enough, but it seemed unlikely to go over well. Thranduil would not look at a fine necklace and see something that might be sold or traded for a year's supply of food and assorted goods, any more than Bard would look at that same necklace and see something 'made from pure starlight', when he knew perfectly well the gems had been dug up in a mine.

Thranduil's gaze as Bard approached was thoughtful, even speculative, Bard thought. As if Thranduil was trying to decide on a course of action regarding him.

Bard told himself that whatever things Thranduil was considering, pulling Bard in for a kiss in full view of his guards was unlikely to be among them. Some events were best left in the realm of fantasy.

True enough, as soon as Bard had come close enough for Thranduil to be able to touch him, if he so chose, Thranduil turned his attention back to the small chests that had arrived from Erebor and their contents. Bard tried not to feel offended at being once more reduced to the role of observer.

It helped that this time, he wasn't ignored for over an hour.

"This one, I think," Thranduil murmured, picking up another necklace.

Bard would be happy to admit that it was as fine a piece as any he had seen (which wasn't saying all that much), easily worth twice as much as the gem Thranduil had admired earlier, if not more.

"You will wear this for me tonight," said Thranduil. "This, and only this."

Well. Bard supposed that definitively settled the question of how skilled he was at not letting his thoughts and feelings show on his face, as well as the one of whether or not his interest was returned.

On the other hand, there _was_ such a thing as manners. "And why would I wish to do that, my lord? Merely to satisfy your whim? What is that to me?"

Thranduil smiled faintly. As far as warnings went, that wasn't much of one.

On second thought, Bard decided that there was no harm in fantasies sometimes turning into reality. At the very least, if he went wandering around now, the guards might be less keen on shooting him on sight for trespassing.


End file.
